Proud
by HawkDramione
Summary: Headcanon: Right after the Battle Neville visited his parents to tell them about it. After he finished, his mother, who normally would only talk nonsense looked at him, smiled and said one word. "Proud."


**This is a headcanon I found on internet. I couldn't find the credit, and don't know if there's already a fanfic about it either. But the image stuck in my head and I just have to write it down. If you know who came up with this headcanon, or you came up with it yourself, please let me know. If this story is not good enough for you I will delete it.**

 **I am still learning English so mistakes will be inevitable. I am so sorry for that.**

 **Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Mrs. Rowling , and the idea belongs to someone else. I own completely nothing.**

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 **Headcanon:** Right after the Battle Neville visited his parents to tell them about it. After he finished, his mother, who normally would only talk nonsense looked at him, smiled and said one word. "Proud."

The news about the Battle of Hogwarts spreaded out in the Wizarding world like a hurricane, and that they have won, the Dark Lord was finally defeated, and the Boy Who Lived, well, lived. Every where, people celebrated. Family reunited, friends cheered and lovers kissed. Even in the Saint Mungo Hospital, healers, nurses, and patients danced and sang and celebrated with all the spirit, despite their unique conditions.

Catherine hummed a melody under her breath as she changed the bed sheet for Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom. It was said that their son had killed the Dark Lord's snake, helped the Choosen One defeat him. They said their son was a hero, that he led the Dumbledore's Army during the dark time of Hogwarts, that he was the leader, protecting other students...

"...and from the burning Sorting Hat, he pulled out a sword, the legendary Gryffindor's sword." - She smiled, finishing her job before turning to her patients. They still sat there, smiled at her, but their eyes unfocus. Mr. Longbottom looked out the window, where a bird was singing the song of victory. - "You must be very proud of your son."

Mr. Longbottom turned back to look at her, head nodding and smiling. For a moment, Catherine allowed herself to believe that he understood what she said, not the usual reply of his to everyone and everything else. She didn't allow her mind to wander to the part he may never understand what she said, or worse, knew of his son...

No, Catherine wouldn't think about it. Not today.

"So," - Tugging the old bed sheet in her arms, the nurse turned to her patients - "I'll be back later then. With tea, perhaps."

Just as she turned around to leave, a man walked in. Tall and strong as he appeared, he looked exhausted, still with blood and burnt clothes on him. He looked to where she stood, and Catherine knew at once this was the boy, no, the man, he was no longer a small boy, she had just talked about.

"Mr. Longbottom." - A broad smile bloomed on her lips, and the young hero replied with his usual shy smile. - "I have just changed your parents' bed sheet."

"Thank you." - He said quietly, his eyes darting to behind her, where his parents were sitting.

"I have just told them about you." - She told him, trying to bite back the wave of sympathy hitting her like a tidal wave. - "They are very, very proud of their son, they may not be able to say it, but I know they are." - She patted his shoulder gently - "I will be back later."

He nodded, words died in his throat, but Catherine didn't need to hear it. After all, she had been taking care of his parents ever since she worked as a nurse here, and had been knowing him since he was a young little boy. Giving him the last smile, she left, leaving the family to reunite.

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Catherine took double the time to prepare tea for her patients. She had been working here long enough to know everything about her patients and their son, and given what they'd been through, she would never dare to interupt their moment. However, as she came back with tea and biscuits, Neville was still talking with - or rather to - his parents. Not wanting to walk in, Catherine stood behind the curtain, waiting for him to finish.

"... Then I swung the sword, cutting the head of the snake. Voldemort was incredibly mad, dad, and I thought I could have died! But a shield appeared from thin air, protecting me from his curse. And it was Harry, mom! The bloody guy faked his death! He gave us a heart attack though." - He chuckled. - "Anyway, Voldemort was killed. Harry is the hero. And we will have to rebuild Hogwarts." - Catherine heard him sighed, then fell into the silence, except for the often " _tick...tok_ " sound Mr. Longbottom made.

Just as Catherine decided to walked in, Neville spoke up. - "I am thinking about being a professor. Teaching Herbology, perhaps. I haven't told anyone yet. Grandma will want me to be an Auror, no doubt. But I don't think it suits me. I mean, I am not Harry, mom! I'm not the hero! I am more of the bloke who follows order. And, Hogwarts needs help too. I can help rebuild the castle. And teaching is not that bad, I suppose. What do you think?" - Catherine could imagine the content smile and nod of Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, and with all of her will power, she had to fight back her tears. Here he was, the hero of Hogwarts, still full of doubt about himself no matter what he had achieved, visiting his parents, who probably had no memories of him anymore. They have won the war, but still the price for it was too high, and there were wounds that would always be fresh, never heal. He should have been in the arms of his parents, talking about future, and listening to their advices...

"Yeah." - She heard the trademark chuckle of his. - "I think so too." - Neville must be standing up, stretching. - "Okay. I'll be back to visit you later. Merlin's beard, this was so exhausting! Maybe I will skip the bath. Don't be mad at me, okay, mom?"

Taking this was the clue for her to show up, Catherine stepped in. The young hero blinked, no doubt, to hide the tears in his eyes. She didn't mentioned it. Instead, Catherine smiled and held the stray in front of her. - "Would you like to stay back for some tea and biscuits, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Maybe not today, but thanks, Catherine." - He smiled. Since he was a boy, he had always said no. He never stayed back, even with his grandma insisting. And Catherine was already used to it.

"I suppose so." - She replied gently - "You should rest, young man, and bath too. That smell is terrible."

Smiling sheepishly, Neville nodded, and kissed his parents goodbye, while Catherine pretended to be busy with those teacups.

"See you later, mom, dad." - He whispered. - "Next time I'll be cleaner, I promise."

Just as Catherine turned around and Neville stood straight back to leave, Mrs. Longbottom stood up. And no, not the trembling stand up, but the full straight and stable one. She grabbed her son's hand with the steady grip that she had never showed before.

Catherine gasped. _Please_ , _dear God_ , she thought, _please please please..._

The woman stared at her own grip with somewhat surprise expression on her face, as if she herself couldn't understand her action. Slowly, she looked up at her son's face, hand moving up, tracing every line on his face, as if for the first time in forever, she finally saw him.

"Mom?" - Neville's voice trembled, and it held so _so_ much hope, so much that it ached Catherine's heart. _Please_ , she prayed silently for any spiritual being, _please let a miracle happened_.

After what felt like a century of waiting, and both Neville and Catherine held back their breath, Alice Longbottom awkwardly wrapped her arms around her son, patting his head softly. And...

"Proud." - The woman spoke, loud and clear enough for everyone to hear. - "Proud."

Catherine couldn't watch anymore. Her tears was strimming down her face, blurring her vision. She left, pulling the curtain behind. She could still hear Neville's cry though, and the image of his mother, for the first time, embracing him and patting his head like every other mother, still swam in her head.

Today, indeed, was the day of celebration.


End file.
